Jack's Story
by Afalstein
Summary: The story of Gunnerkrigg Court, as seen through the eyes of one Jack Hyland. Starts around the "Power Station" chapter and moves on from there. Eventual Jack/Annie. Probably AU.
1. Anomalies

**Anomalies**

Light shot from the spire, out over the lake. It shot in a long, narrow arc, stretching over the water and the city beyond before fading out of sight. Slowly, the light from the spire faded, and the clanks and rattles of the stations below slowly subsided into silence. All the air seemed suddenly cooler, freer, as if something had been released.

And atop a tall abandoned building near the edge of the artificial lake, a dark-haired boy in a long coat stood fascinated.

"Interesting." He grinned, pulling an umbrella from his coat, his gaze never leaving the power station. "Very interesting."

Without even a thunderclap, the skies broke open and poured rain out upon the boy, drops pounding mercilessly against his umbrella's thin plastic skin. Oblivious to it, he stood staring out at the station, rubbing his chin contemplatively.

Jack had seen plenty of things on his night escapades before, but the power station took the cake. It was one of the few things he could neither understand nor ignore. A station of some kind, sitting on an island in the middle of a lake constructed presumably expressly for its purpose, which seemed to amount to little more than a pretty lights show. (And a rainstorm.)

In fact, the whole thing was altogether so intriguing, that Jack found himself returning again and again to the abandoned building, to watch the station in hopes of a repeat performance. Again and again he found himself disappointed.

When he finally did witness another 'experiment,' he found himself as confused as before. The station was definitely producing energy, but what for? And that light beam HAD to use up a lot of power—what was its purpose? Was the Court maybe experimenting with weather manipulation? If so, he thought it a pretty cheap attempt.

He'd roughly worked out the timing of these procedures, and now, the third time, he'd picked up a bit more. The light beam probably WAS all the energy generated from the experiment. Why it would be firing it away like that, he couldn't tell. The rain he understood now too… it was simply the natural result of the clouds formed by the process. But the station itself remained as mystifying as ever.

Cocking an eyebrow at the rain pouring around him, Jack mused beneath his umbrella. He'd need help on this one.

* * *

"Radiant energy transferral?"

"Or release." Jack shrugged. "Impossible to tell for sure. It's sorta hard to explain, I guess. Anyway, forget it, it's not important."

"No, wait, what kind of release mechanism do they use?" John pressed, leaning over the cafeteria table. Winsbury and Matt sat on either side of him, also eyeing Jack curiously.

"Oh, hard to say." Jack pretended to think about it for a moment. "It's mounted on a spire… so… I suppose it would have to be some kind of ionization allocator."

"You're crazy," scoffed Matt. "Those things are theoretical. No one's managed to make a working one."

John shook his head. "No, a working prototype was actually constructed by Dr. Smith Jonesbury several years ago. It only worked over a distance of…"

"That was mostly because of the collecting mechanism." Winsbury broke in. "They've improved them since then, it's completely possible that…"

Jack suppressed a smirk as he watched his classmates' minds dissect the problem. Last year, Winsbury and John had done a project on radiant energy transferral. Though apparently they had suffered a great many teamwork issues, they still were the best brains around to pick about his power station problem. And, if possible, the best eyes to help him pick up any details he might have missed.

"Of course, the sheer scale you're talking about makes this whole thing rather hard to believe." Winsbury leveled a hard stare at Jack. "You're sure it was radiant energy?"

With a modest shrug, Jack replied. "It certainly looked like it. Of course, I'm not the expert on such matters…"

Snorting, Winsbury turned away. "I suppose we'll need to see it ourselves." He grumbled.

Jack once again suppressed a victory smirk.

"Winnie, are you serious?" Matt blinked at his irritable friend. "Going out as late as that could get us in some serious trouble."

"Oh c'mon, what's the worst thing they could do? Give us a few detentions or something? Besides, Jack here has been sneaking out for nearly two years now, and no one's ever caught him."

This time Jack didn't bother to hide his smirk. His late-night expeditions were a well-known secret among the boys' wing, and something of a matter of personal pride to him. He didn't exactly recall when he'd started, but two years was the generally agreed-on mark.

"W-we should invite Margo." John spoke up suddenly. "Sh-she, uh… uh… she's really good with the… release mechanisms… diagnostics…"

Matt and Jack grinned, but Winsbury curiously made no reaction. "No way. If we invite her we'll probably have to invite Janet along too."

"We wouldn't have to. It's not like they're exactly friends," put in Matt reasonably.

"No, but if she hears anything about it she'll grouse and whine and generally be a bitch about it till we let her come." Winsbury crossed his arms with a groan. "I suppose we'd better just get it over with and invite her to start out with."

Shrugging, Jack got up. "Whatever works with you guys. You sure you wanna go? It's a bit of a trip…"

"Of course we're sure!" All three replied angrily.

"Suit yourself. The next one should take place in a few weeks, so get everything together."

* * *

**A/N: **So let's just get this out of the way at the start. Primarily, this is going to be Gunnerkrigg Court from Jack's point of view. However, later in the series, I am planning to turn this into a Jack/Annie story. I understand why Tom chose not to pursue that route in his excellent comic, but a part of me wishes he had, and hey, if one can't use fanfiction to incorrectly interpret the text according to your whims, we'd be stuck with just doing that in scholarship, which is horribly dry and no fun at all.

For those readers who don't know what Gunnerkrigg Court is, what have you been doing with your time on the internet? Look it up. Like now.


	2. New Faces

**New Faces**

* * *

"So, slight change of plans." John rubbed his neck. "Margo and Janet needed someone to break them out of the girl's dorms, so they're bringing Donlan along."

"Donlan?" Winsbury glanced up and frowned. "That's dangerous. She's a teacher's kid."

"TWO teachers. Her father teaches too. She could get us any way she wanted," agreed Matt.

John gave a little shrug. "Can't be helped. She's the best techno-whiz on the floor, and they need help. Janet kinda knows her, she says she'll be alright."

"Still…" With a hopeful gleam in his eye, Winsbury turned to Jack. "Couldn't you…?"

"No." Jack shook his head. "I draw the line at girl's dorms."

"Fine. Donlan's along then too, we'll just have to keep an eye on her," sighed Winsbury. "Geez, this is turning into a real mess."

Shrugging, Jack got up from the table. "Whatever works with you guys. Just remember, next week Tuesday, at 10. Got that?"

"Yeah, we'll be there."

* * *

They arrived a few minutes before the girls and made their way to the top level. Most of the others, too nervous to properly rest, stood around, talking of little absurdities. Jack, for his part, just leaned against the wall and waited. Nothing really interesting was likely to happen till ten, anyway.

The clamor of echoing voices from the stairwell alerted them to the girls' arrival, and the boys turned to face four excited, slightly flustered figures as they emerged. Janet, the headmaster's daughter; Margo, John's supposed girlfriend; and two strangers. Jack supposed one of them must be the dreaded Donlan.

The usual greetings were exchanged, and Winsbury said "This here is Jack, from QS. He found it."

Jack did the obligatory nod. Margo, a bespectacled black girl, asked him, "So where is it?"

At last. Down to business. "Right this way." He pushed open the door and led the group onto the roof. "This building has the best view 'cause it's right next to the artificial lake."

The others spread across the roof, making general observations about the lake, the building, and what they could see of the power station. Jack, who felt a trifle sorry for the two friendless girls, struck up a conversation with them. Or at least, with the curly-haired one. Her redhead friend didn't seem to think much of talking. She did, however, stay VERY close to the other's side.

"So how did you find this place, Jack?"

Offering a nonchalant shrug, Jack laughed, "Eh, there's too much to see around court. I just fiddle with the motion detectors and slip out."

"Hey, that's what I did."

"Oh aye?" This must be Donlan, then, the infamous 'Teacher's Kid.' Intriguing. From the others' talk, he had pictured Donlan as a bookish sort, but apparently not.

This was shaping up to be quite an interesting night.

Gradually Winsbury and the others joined in on the conversation. Donlan's redhead friend retained her silence, but things went along very smoothly, and when Winsbury flat-out asked Donlan if she was going to tell her parents, Donlan merely quirked an eyebrow and asked why she'd do that. Everyone relaxed, and Jack checked his watch. Just a few more minutes. He was really looking forward to what they would all have to say about…

CLONK. WHAM!

The dull sound of someone running face-first into the roof access door echoed across the air. All the group whirled around, terrified by the sudden threat of discovery. "Oh no." Margo whimpered.

With a resounding clang, the door swung open, and one of the strangest creatures Jack had ever seen emerged. His first impression was that of a dirty eyeless puppet, his second that of a rabid weasel, his third… well, around his third he finally picked up on the fact that the figure was, in fact, a gaunt, tangle-haired girl in a rumpled white shirt. Her eyes were so sunken and dirty they seemed to be empty sockets, and in her mouth… if Jack didn't know better, he'd swear she had fangs.

The strange girl stalked straight through the children as if they weren't there. A few paces behind her came a weary-looking, comparatively calm brunette. She walked along as if in a daze. The tangle-haired creature stopped at the railing and gazed furiously out at the power station.

So far, the whole group of students had simply stared in shocked surprise at the duo, unable to understand what was going on. But when the brunette reached out to push Matt away, the spell was broken.

"Hey!" Matt cried, understandably confused.

The effect this simple statement had was electric. The brunette recoiled, gazing at the whole company. Tangle-hair whipped around. "They're what?" She screeched, leaping to the other's side. "Ger off don't touch 'er what are you doin I-I'll bust you up real bad!"

Crap. This was going downhill, fast. How'd they manage to get this girl mad already? The noise could easily draw attention, and to be honest, Jack didn't really look forward to having to tangle with her.

"Zimmy…" The voice was calm, soothing

"Carver?" The strange girl wrinkled her nose. Apparently she and the red-head knew each other. "What's goin' on? I thought it wuz night time!"

_Is she blind?_ Jack wondered. That would explain the sunken eyes, and the way she'd walked through them. But how would she get here?

"Yuh… yer not supposed to be up! I's allowed but you ain't! I could get you all in big trouble if you try anyfing!"

Again Jack tensed at the downward turn, but Carver had the matter well in hand. "No, no. It's okay, Zimmy. No one is going to try anything."

'Zimmy' seemed to calm down considerably. Her brunette friend spoke up also. "_Czesc_, Annie."

_Huh?_ Jack was so thrown, he nearly missed tangle-hair's comment about the station messing with her head. _What's she saying?_ Apparently, as the redhead explained, the brunette could not speak English. Why Cantor (Campbell? Carvon?) could was a whole another question, but Jack found himself VERY thankful Donlan had brought her friend along.

The thought was momentarily interrupted by a fresh outburst of jargon from the brunette. Carrion looked troubled and responded with some kind of question. For some reason, the brunette's reply merely deepened the troubled expression.

A glance at his watch showed Jack he had no time for further musings. "Sorry to interrupt this laugh riot ladies, but it's time we got this show started."

VOOOOOOOOH!

The loud siren echoed across the lake and once again the machinery began chugging into motion. Jack forgot the others for a moment as he stared across the lake, once again fascinated by the mystery the station presented. He barely heard the other's comments about the water going down and probably forming the clouds. _How is it doing that?_ He wondered. _Why?_

ZAAARK! Lightning arched across the sky, over the horizon.

The procedure was nearly over now. This next part should be fun. As he listened to John's theory about a possible receiving station, he reached into his coat and allowed himself a wicked smile. "Oh, by the way, guys." He said, speaking with deliberate slowness. "There's something else I should have mentioned."

The group had just enough time to stare in bewilderment at him and his umbrella before the skies let loose their downpour of rain.

"AAH!" cried John, caught completely off-guard.

"Dude…!"

"YEEK!"

_Totally worth it._

"Ahahaha!" laughed Donlan, pulling her hat over her face. Jack grinned, offering her and Camton the umbrella. "You jerk ass." She smirked at him. Candor, predictably, said nothing.

Returning the smirk, Jack glanced over at a sudden noise. Miss Tangle-hair was still out in the rain, staring at it in shock. As he looked at her, he became suddenly aware of a buzzing sensation—like static on a radio.

_Bzzz…_

"Your friend over there doesn't look too well." He observed, trying to calm himself.

_ZZzzbzbzbzzz…_

"IT AIN'T WORKING!" screamed the girl, throwing her head back to the rain. "IT AIN'T WORKIIIIIING!"

_ZZZBZZZZBZBZBZZZZZZZZZZ….!_

BLIP.


	3. New Places

**New Places**

There wasn't really a transition—no bright light or rushing wind. If anything, there was a sort of grey fuzziness… a passing sensation of being nowhere before he found himself quite suddenly, somewhere.

At least, he thought it was somewhere. A town, from the looks of the cracked cobblestones and rickety buildings. But the utter silence of the place made him reconsider. None of the sounds that filled any normal town were present. No slamming doors, no hubbub of voices, not even the usual whine of wind down empty streets. The air hung thick and still like a leaden blanket of silence.

No, wait. There WAS a noise there, hidden in the background. A high-pitched buzzing, like the crackle of static. It was so constant, so overpowering, that you could almost mistake it _for_ the silence, but if you listened, you could hear it.

Of course, once you did, it was nearly impossible to _stop_ hearing it.

Where the heck was this place? Was it even a place? Even apart from the background buzzing, the buildings seemed just slightly off somehow, they were leaning too far, they were crowding too close, they just… looked wrong somehow.

And anyway, where had all the others gone to?

Jack cautiously made his way down the street. Tentatively, he reached out and let his hand trail over the walls of the adjoining buildings. They FELT real enough. But how the blazes were there buildings here? Where was the roof? And the lake? And the whole SCHOOL, for that matter?

Ordinarily, Jack liked unknowns. They were puzzles to decipher, mysteries to investigate, new challenges for him to solve. And even now, there was a tiny part of his brain that was going_: Fascinating, fascinating. Teleportation? No, no, couldn't possibly be, place too weird. Holograms? But not wearing an impulse suit, so how can I feel? Some kind of brain-wave…_

Jack turned the corner and saw a bunch of faceless people walking aimlessly around the square. They moved in a jerky fashion, like a bad movie reel. Darkness bled from their cracked-clay non-faces as they milled about, with no apparent destination or interest.

The tiny part of his brain gave up and joined the larger part: _THIS PLACE IS FREAKY AND I MUST LEAVE NOW!_

He couldn't run back up the street. He couldn't go through the square, not through all those… things. And when he turned to run into one of the houses, the shadows flitting across the windows made him pause. So he inched along the wall, eyes darting from the roving walkers to the comfortable darkness of the nearest alleyway. Step by anxious step he took, trying to make as little noise as possible. He couldn't tell whether those… things could hear or even see, but he preferred not to find out.

Finally he reached the cool gap of the alleyway, and letting out the breath he'd been holding for the past minute or so, he slipped inside. He half-tripped over something in the gloom, but did not stop to inspect it any more closely, instead simply running to the end of the alley, where he met a high wooden fence half-buried in some random trashbags. Here he leaned against the wall to catch his breath—though curiously, he did not actually feel very winded.

Then he heard a scratching sound.

Slowly, with a building feeling of dread, Jack turned to face the alley, but there was nothing there. He glanced at the high wooden fence, but there was nothing there either. The scratching noise was getting louder, more persistent…

Something touched Jack's hand and he sprang away with an involuntary yelp. Falling on the opposite wall, he whirled around and stared in disbelief.

Something was crawling THROUGH the wall. Digging would be almost the term, except the wall seemed to nearly dissolve before the scrabbling long feelers that came craning through. The legs were long, impossibly crooked, and dirty. Just behind them, in the gloom, there came the barest glimpse of glittering eyes…

Jack did not scream, but he did turn and run. In all honesty, the lack of screaming probably had less to do with courage and more to do with being struck mute with fear. His mouth opened and closed, gulping at air hopelessly like a fish on the bank, but his feet had a mind of their own, carrying him back out of the alley almost before he knew what was happening. This time, he fully tripped over the strange object and turned to see it.

It was a body. Faceless, like those walking the streets, but a body nonetheless.

Jack turned his gaze frontwards just in time to see the form of one of the walking nobodies looming up at him. Swerving wildly, he missed running into the creature by inches, slipped on a loose stone, and slammed into another no-faced body.

It felt real. A little cold and clammy, but very solid and tangible. But the way it turned its gaping hole of a face to study him was most certainly not natural, nor was the way all the other nobodies turned as one to look at him.

Jack pushed himself off the thing and bolted out of the square as quickly as he could, making for the closest rickety building. Yes, there were still shadows moving in the windows, but right now, anything was preferable to the silent square. He grabbed at the knob, wrenched the door open, and slammed it shut behind him.

For a moment he just rested against the door, getting his breath back. Now that the danger was past, he felt a little silly… they were just people, after all. True, people with cracked faces of darkness who were shuffling about like zombies but still, it's not like any of them had attacked him. Actually he felt a little inclined to laugh.

Pushing himself off the door, he glanced about the room. He seemed to have entered a shop of some kind. It was horribly run-down, and there was dust and spiders everywhere, but apart from that it seemed perfectly normal. Stepping over to the shop window, he glanced out at the square. The nobodies had returned to their aimless shambling, with seemingly no interest in pursuing him. Of the legs he'd seen in the alley there was no sign.

Jack fell back from the window and considered. Okay. So he was in a mysterious world full of bizarre/horrific creatures. If it weren't for how incredibly REAL everything felt, he'd think himself in a dream, but the floor was utterly too solid for that to be the case. Plus he doubted his subconscious enough to come up with something as messed up as this. So for the moment, he decided to assume it was real. First priority had to be survival, obviously. Then he could start working on where the heck this place was, what the heck it was, and then how the heck to get out.

He started to poke around the shop. It seemed to have been a candy store. Once. A long time ago, long enough for all the peppermints and butterscotches to fuse together in their jars and be covered with dust. Beetle-gnawed chocolate bars lay in the display case, and the rack of cotton candy was such a mass of cobwebs he honestly could be sure what was candy and what was spider silk. The molasses jars on the top seemed to have cracked and left their contents to slowly creep all the way down the shelves.

Clearly he wasn't finding any food here. There was a handy walking stick, though, leaning against a chair. Swatting away a spider trying to land on his shoulder, Jack brushed the cobwebs off the stick and picked it up.

Heartened by his new weapon, Jack pressed his way toward the back. Perhaps there would be a map or a satchel of some kind he could use.

The back room was a mess. Chairs and tables stacked up on each other every which way, tons of shoes (for some reason) all over the floor, and spiders everywhere. Jack seriously wondered where all the bugs came from to feed all these spiders. Momentarily, it occurred to him that perhaps the spiders of THIS world didn't eat bugs, but he brushed that thought away nearly instantly. He didn't want to think about it too much.

It was clear at a glance that an in-depth search of this room was impossible, but Jack was nothing if not adventurous. There was a vaguely satchel-shaped object near the back next to a grimy window. Pushing a few stray chairs out of the way, Jack made his way towards it. It rested atop a pile of chairs, so Jack had to reach over and stretch himself out to reach it. A few spiders jumped on his arm, but he swatted them off easily. He plucked at the cloth… and revealed a rag draped over a syrup-smeared jar. Shrugging philosophically, Jack withdrew.

And that was when he saw them.

It was the flash of red that caught his eye… in this world the girl's hair stood out like a streetlight. He could just make them out through the window… Carver and the tangle-haired girl from before. They were making their way down the street behind the shop, as casually as if they were out on a Sunday stroll.

Jack pounded on the window. He shouted. He tried to open the window but could not find the latch. He reared back and brought his stick down hard against the glass, but nothing worked. The girls did not stop or turn, they simply continued down the street toward the faceless people at the end of it.

Then the red-haired girl put out her hand and dissolved them.

Jack stared. A spider bit him on the hand and he barely noticed, he was still trying to piece together what he'd seen. The girl had just… touched the nobody, and it'd been like it was sucked into her hand.

Again he pounded on the window, but the girls turned the corner and went out of sight. Fuming, Jack stood back from the window and considered. He could doubtless find a side-street, get on their trail, meet up with them. If they were only walking, he could run and catch up with them. They seemed to be clearing the path, so he shouldn't have too many troubles with the nobodies, unless those things somehow…

CLICK.

It was a fairly ordinary sound, the sort of clicking noise an insect makes, only it was far, far too loud. And it was right behind him.

CLICK. CLICK. CLCKCLIKLIKKKKIKIKICLKIIIK

Jack took a firm grip on his cane. The window was no good. That noise was between him and the only door to the room. There was nothing for it. With luck, it'd just be an unusually large beetle, and heck, the spiders could probably take care of that on their own.

KLIKIKIKKKKLICLIKLIK

What's the worst thing it could be?

KIKLIKLIKLIKIKIKLICLICKLIKICK

With a last deep breath, Jack spun around and saw…

BLIP.

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I just did that. On the off chance that Tom ever reveals what exactly Jack DID see in Zimmingham, I'd prefer not to make up my own version, particularly as Tom is much better at composing Eldritch horrors than I. But in the meantime, I will cheerfully speculate as to what Jack's time in Zimmingham was like. Unlike Annie, he has no context for what he's experiencing.

In fact, we're about to get into a LOT of speculation. At this point, we've mostly stuck to what's been shown in the comic strip, but shortly after this, Jack disappears for a couple chapters. I look forward to depicting JAck's descent into madness.


	4. Need To Know

**Need-to-Know**

BLIP.

Again, there was no transition, just a sudden, very vivid sensation of suddenly being somewhere. A very definite, particular somewhere, in fact.

Rain was hitting him. His hair was growing damp already, and cool drops were sliding down his face. He felt curiously light, as though his body was not quite his own, and the laughter of his friends seemed oddly fuzzy. Blinking, he tried to shake the sensation.

The girl. The odd, tangle-haired girl was there, next to Carter. For some reason Jack KNEW this was all her fault, that he HAD to talk to her.

She started when he grabbed her arm. "The HELL!?" She snarled, whirling around.

Then she saw his face.

"Oh you were there too, huh?" She shrugged out of his grasp. "Well, sucks to be you, mate." And without another word, she and her brown-haired friend disappeared down the stairwell.

Jack stared after her. She knew! She knew he'd been there and she'd… what was that place? Was it even real? How had she gotten them…

"Jack? Hey, Jack!" Matt was shaking his arm. "We need to get going, man. Cool light show and all, but everybody's got classes in the morning. We can talk theories on the way back."

"Right…" Jack managed, shaking himself from the daze. "Right." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the fire-haired girl (Candor?) looking at him.

He barely remembered the trip down the stairs. He didn't even glance at the robot horse as they piled into the carriage. The trip back to the dorms was like a hazy memory.

The others were full of talk. "I hear they have lakes like that one all through the court," confided Matt.

Winsbury nodded. "Janet said somethin' like that."

"You think they have stations like that all through the court too?" Jon glanced from one to the other. "That would explain where the energy beam went off to."

"Yeah…" Winsbury frowned. "But why the heck would you work up that much energy just to zap it off like that?"

"Heck, how do you work up that energy in the first place?" shrugged Matt. "It looked like it was pulling it from the water, but how would that even be possible?"

Sighing, Jon glanced over at him. "Any thoughts, Jack?"

"Not really."

A lie, of course. Jack's head was full of thoughts, it was just that none of them had anything to do with the power station. That girl was responsible, he knew it. Did she have a mini-teleporter? But only Jack and the two girls had been there. No one else seemed to have a clue about the place. So why only teleport him and… the redhead? And again, how? Teleporters were incredibly bulky, and the girl was not. Perhaps magic? But…

"Jack? We're at your place."

Jack glanced up. "Oh, right." He climbed from the carriage. "I'll… I'll see you all at lunch tomorrow, I guess."

"Will do, bro." The cart pulled away.

Mind still churning, Jack climbed back up the stairs, absentmindedly re-setting the motion detectors as he entered the dorms. He entered his room quietly, so as not to awaken his roommate—Kevin was mostly cool with Jack's shenanigans, but he did ask for his sleep schedule to be uninterrupted—and sat on the edge of his bed, thinking.

Finally he shook it off. As Matt had said, there was class in the morning. He could work this out then. Pulling off his shoes and dumping his coat on the floor, he stretched out on the bed and laid his head down to rest.

_ Bzzzzbzzzbzzzzzzzbzzzzz…_

* * *

**A/N: **Not much to say after so long, I know. There've been a couple side projects I've been distracted with. Also exams at college. I couldn't really think of much to say about the transition presented here. The next couple chapters should be more interesting, as we get into Jack's mounting insanity. I have some of them partly written out, too, so it should go quicker too._  
_


	5. Unsettled

**Unsettled**

"Now when the gamma particles hit the object, we observe a very interesting reaction…"

Mr. Donlan's figure was slightly fuzzy at the head of the room, and Jack struggled to keep thinking about the lesson. _Gamma… that's… the third sort of radiation… after Alpha and Beta… The really weird thing about Gamma, though, is… is…_

_ Bzzzbzzzbzzzzzbzzzz…_

There was that fly again. Maybe it was another one, but Jack doubted it. He doubted there was another insect alive as annoying as the one that'd been pestering him all night and all morning. It'd started off so quiet and low… almost like a background noise, really. But now it was getting loud and insistent, to the point that Jack couldn't believe the others in the classroom could ignore it. It was all Jack could do to stop swatting away at his chin everytime the thing tickled it. The other students had started giving him strange looks after the fifteenth such swat, and Jack had finally given it up. It wasn't like he ever got the thing.

In perfect frankness, that was the TRULY annoying thing about the fly. Not just that it was so loud like it was flying in his ear, not just that it would land wherever on his face and tickle him something awful, but that Jack couldn't seem to catch, or even see, the thing. It was only a noise, a sensation, an occasional feeling as if something were crawling on his face.

_Bzzzzbzzzzzbzzzbzbzzzbzzzzzb zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzbzzzz…._

"Hyland!"

Jack blinked and looked up. "Yes, Mr. Forthsburg?

"You seem somewhat distracted. I'm not boring you, am I?" The professor lowered his bushy eyebrows in a glare.

"No sir, not in the slightest," answered Jack, trying to ignore the snickers. "Just… a fly bothering me."

"Oh indeed? And is it still bothering you, Mr. Hyland?"

"Er… No sir. It's gone now." And that WAS odd. As soon as he started talking with anyone, the fly seemed to just disappear.

"Then perhaps" said Mr. Forthsburg, "you can focus on the lesson again."

For some reason Jack found the professor's gaze to be profoundly uncomfortable, and he quickly nodded. The rest of the class was still snickering, but a quick glare around the room soon quieted that.

Satisfied, Mr. Forthsburg returned to the board. "Now, to return to what we were talking about before, this trait of the gamma particles is particularly interesting to the scientific community, due in large part to the…"

Jack found his attention already wandering. Mr. Forthsburg's voice, when not berating students, was largely nasal and had a faint droning quality. Today especially, there was a lulling sort of buzz in his voice. And if you'd been up all night, it could be very… what was the word… soporific?

_Focus on the lesson._ Jack told himself. _Okay, focus on the chalkboard, then. Wonder why the court hasn't sprung for those new whiteboard things. Maybe they have and Forthsburg doesn't like them. Ehh, even looking at those things makes me think of fingernails, gross. Wonder how people invented chalkboards? Chalk, okay, that's a soft rock, you pick that up and start sketching stuff on any rock, but why slate or whatever-they-make-boards-out-of-these-days? Going to have to look that up when I get hommbzzbazzzzbzbzzzbzzzz…_

_OH! Probably chose slate first of all because it was smooth and hard and you could wipe it off easily. Makes sense. But why change from slate to…_

Jack frowned. That was weird. The fly was gone. It'd been coming back, but the second he'd started thinking about slate, it had suddenly quieted down. Almost like he had tuned out of a certain frequency. Which was interesting, but probably just a coincidence. It couldn't…

_Bzzzzbzzzbzzzzz_

_EGGS! Eggs are laid by all reptiles and just a few mammals like Platypi and echidnas that live in Australia, because things are…_

Okay, that time it'd DEFINITELY been the thoughts. But how the heck did thinking scare a fly off? Not much he could…

_Bzbzzzbzzzbzzzzzzzz…_

_IT COULD BE A TELEPATHIC FLY OR POSSIBLY some sort of leech that harvested brainwaves like the Babel Fish in the…_ Jack stopped the thought before it could get too wild. _Stick to reality. Your thoughts quiet the buzzing. How is that…_

Slowly, a horrible thought grew in Jack's mind. Reaching surreptitiously into his pack, he picked out the spoon he'd brought for the yogurt in his lunch. Angling it at his face, he took a deep breath and tried NOT to think.

_Bzzbzzzbzzzbzzz…_

Jack turned the spoon right and left, studying the fishbowled image of his face in its smooth silver finish. He could see no fly anywhere near his face.

_Bzzbzzzbzzzzzzzzbzz…_

And then the tickling started. A tiny quivering on his lift eyebrow, as if something invisible were tentatively stepping across his eye. He could feel it, as surely as he could feel the spoon in his hand and the seat underneath him.

But in the reflection of the spoon, he could see nothing.

Jack let the spoon go and sat back, heedless to the droning words of Mr. Forthsburg. Passing a hand over his face, he forced himself to control his breathing. _You're not going crazy._ He told himself. _You're not. You just need… to keep thinking._

* * *

**A/N:** Ran into a slight wrinkle writing for this story. I have the next couple chapters already written out, but it suddenly occurred to me that I needed another one, just showing Jack's growing awareness of what's going on. Sorry to give such a short update after such a long delay, but the next one will be more substantial._  
_


	6. New Purpose

**New Purpose**_  
_

_bzzzzzzbzbzzbzzbzzzzzzzbzzzz zzzzzzHzyzzzzzJzzzzzJazzzzyz zzlzztnzzzgzzzzzbzbzzzzzzzzH zyzzJACK!_

"Wha…?" Jack fought his way back up, focusing on the words as an anchor. _Keepthinkingkeepthinkingdon'tlet the flies back in_. "Oh! Hey Winsbury." He managed a smile. "Sorry. Spaced out there for a little bit."

"Yeah, no kidding," grumbled Winsbury.

Matt was eyeing him oddly. "You feeling okay, Jack?"

Jack yawned. "I was out… kinda late last night."

"I'll bet," laughed Matt. "Where'd you go this time? No, forget it." He waved it away. "I probably don't want to know. What time did you get back?"

Jack paused to think a moment. _When DID I last sleep? I know I didn't the first night, but that was weeks ago, I must have slept at some point in betwzzzbzzzNzznzNO!_

"Somewhere around four, I think." _Focus, Jack FOCUS! The average human attention span is five minutes, certainly never more than eight, due to the fluctuation of thebzzzbzbzbzbzbzz NO! I've reviewed that too many times. Need something NEW! _His eyes latched onto a bug crawling on the table. _Hard outer shell to hide delicate wings beneath. Like robotic casings_. "I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention." _Keep thinking. Robotic insects. Whatpurpose would liftable casings serve. Transmitter? No. More likely transmitter masker, spreads out to cover signals being sent. But why?_

"Four?" John, on the other side of the table, glanced up. "You REALLY shouldn't be up."

Nodding, Matt offered, "Maybe you just oughta go back to your dorm. We can cover for you in classes…"

"I'll be fine." Reluctantly, Jack tore his eyes away from the bug. _Bug wings mask original signal while a separate device sends a duplicate…_ "Just need to keep moving, that's all."

"If you say so." Winsbury shrugged.

John still seemed worried. "At least eat something."

"I'm… not really hungry," answered Jack, glancing at his half-full plate. At least not for this stuff. For some odd reason, Jack suddenly found court food really disturbing. Creepy. Every time he looked at it, the first thing he saw was a plate of eyeballs. Even after he'd shaken it off and recognized the meal as a perfectly acceptable hamburger, he felt the thing was looking at him. Through the onion rings. The pickle chips. Even the lettuce had a suspicious look to it, and how on earth was THAT possible?

"Hey, Jack!"

"What?" Jack glanced up.

"I said, what do you think about that residential that's coming up? Sounds like they're going to have a couple classes in there."

"Oh yeah, that." Jack nodded. He dimly recalled hearing something about it. "Should be fun, I guess."

"Psh." Winsbury waved his hand. "I've been camping dozens of times with my folks. It stinks."

"We'll get to hang out with the others, though. Like all night." John pointed out. "Sit by the fire, sing songs, all that sort of thing." For a moment he seemed to just stare off into space. "I could bring my mandolin." He mused.

"Aw, and who are we going to play it for, lover boy?"

"Shut it, Matt."

The conversation broke up into easily analyzable bickering routines, and Jack found his attention slipping away. Desperately he cast about for something, ANYTHING to occupy his mind. The bug was gone, but perhaps the image…? _Wings spread as a receiver/jamming device while the bugzzz headzzzbzzz uzzzed azzzimmizzzz…_

_NO! Think!_

_Residential. Term meaning living area. Adapted in this case to refer to a camp of sorts. Kids, other kids there. Possilbe camping algorithms… no, not complexzzzz enougzzzz… PEOPLE! What people. Lizzzt. Matt, Winsbury, John, Margo, Janet, Donlan... her friend…_

_Her friend… and the one with the black hair…_

"Hey." Jack broke into a particularly juicy joke Matt was aiming at a red-faced John. "Who was that black-haired girl we met at the power station that one time?"

Matt's expression went from annoyed to puzzled. "You mean Donlan? Kat Donlan?" Slowly the expression grew amused. "Why, you wouldn't happen to be…"

"No, no." Jack shook his head exasperatedly. "The other one. Just showed up. Slammed the door. She had a… a friend with her, some kind of brown-haired girl…"

"Oh, HER?" snorted Winsbury. "No idea. Some kind of weirdo, that's for sure."

"Nasty, too." John frowned.

Holding back his impatience, Jack tried again. "None of you ever saw her before? Know what class she's in, what her name is?"

"Dude, whaddaya want to know about HER for?"

"Just answer the question!" Jack snapped, a little more loudly than he'd intended.

All the boys looked at him for a moment, then Winsbury shrugged. "Look, I'd never seen her before then. And frankly, I'd rather never see her again."

"Yeah," seconded Matt.

"Carver knew who she was, though." John piped up. "Remember? She and Donlan seemed to have met them before."

"Probably invited the two weirdoes to our get-together."

"Carver?" That jogged Jack's memory. The red-haired girl. Of COURSE. "What school is she in?"

That earned him an odd look. "Ours?"

"She's in most of our classes. Just sits there in the back next to Donlan and stares at the teacher." For some reason Winsbury's face looked even more irritable than usual. "Never says anything, except to Donlan. Those two are a world to themselves."

"It does seem kinda… weird." Matt admitted.

"Oh, knock it off you guys," frowned John, looking at the both of them. "Margo says Donlan's a nice girl, and Carver doesn't bother anyone except you, Will." Winsbury grunted and crossed his arms but said nothing. "And they were fine on the power station trip, you've got to admit."

There seemed to be an interesting contradiction there, and Jack filed it away as a later diversion. For the moment, though, his brain had plenty to work on. Carver. Or Donlan. One of them could lead him to the girl, and the girl…

The girl could give him answers.

* * *

**A/N:** Slightly longer chapter. Generally I space these out a bit more, but I felt so bad about the short update last time that I decided to just stick in this next one. I debated combining it with the next chapter, like I should have done with the previous two chapters, but decided to just try and expand the next one. I'll give you a hint, though, it deals with a wolf and some nice flowers.


	7. New Rules

**New Rules**

* * *

Despite his best attempts, Jack only ran across Carver by accident. There were still some things he wouldn't do, and one of them was break into the girls' dorm. And it wasn't really practical to just rush into their classes, he wouldn't be able to talk to them there anyways. Neither Carver nor Donlan seemed to frequent the canteen, and during after hours, when NO one was in class, they were mysteriously absent. No one, not even Janet, seemed to know where they went.

Janet gave him a rather knowing look when he asked where Donlan was. He'd been getting that look a lot recently, and it vaguely irritated him. He'd started asking for CARVER, rather than Donlan, because for some reason that never had the same affect.

But Carver was, if anything, more elusive. No one seemed to know ANYTHING about her, apart from the fact that she was Donlan's friend, and she was creepy. Jack heard several stories about an odd mythology report and one about a disturbing science fair proposal. The court seemed to be interested in her: she'd been called to some high-level meetings and was rumored to have crossed into Gilltie Wood on occasion.

Fascinating tidbits no doubt, and Jack had fun debating back and forth their respective likelihoods of validity, but mostly they were irritating, because they meant that there was NO way to track Carver down.

So on Thursday, when he caught a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye, he abandoned his friends and his walk to class to flag her down. "Carver! Hey!"

With a slight pause, almost as though she'd been interrupted in something, Carver turned around. "Hello, Jack."

"Hey." The buzzing had momentarily quieted, and Jack suddenly realized how bizarre this whole thing must seem. "Uh… how's it going?"

"Fine, thank you," returned Carver, smiling politely if not pleasantly.

"Great. Great." Jack nodded, trying desperately to think of a casual way to work the conversation around to Zimmy.

Apparently it took him too long. "Is everything all right?" Carver tilted her head on one side.

"Yeaaaah…." Jack gave up. The information was too important to mess around with. "Listen. That one… friend of yours? From the power station?" Carver looked confused and he tried a smooth smile. "She had… black hair."

Carver's face cleared to be filled with a peculiar animation. "You mean Kat?"

"No, no." Jack waved his hand irritably. Not this again. "The other one. Her friend didn't speak any English."

"Oh…" Carver's face took on a more troubled expression. "… You mean Zimmy."

_ Zimmy…_

"Zimmy." Jack nodded, feeling the sudden relief. "Yeah, that's right, Zimmy." The buzzing was back, but it had a new timbre, more frantic, eager somehow. The buzzing knew Zimmy. It wanted Zimmy.

_ Zimmmyzimmyzimmybzzzzzzzimzz zzbzzzzZimmyzbzzzzZimmy…_

It NEEDED Zimmy.

All too soon, the relief drained away. The buzzing grew more frantic, more insistent. It pressed against his mind. _Zimmyzimmyzimmyzimmyzimmy…_

"What… what class is she in?" Jack managed.

Carver edged slightly away. "In… Chester, I think."

"Oh, Chester, huh?" Jack nodded slightly, stepping forward. "Right, right."

Once again, Carver stepped backwards.

_Bzzbzznzzzzbzzzz…._

Jack felt the edges of panic. She couldn't go! She was his only anchor right now, the only one who'd been in that… place. "So…" he started, and stopped. There wasn't a smooth way to lead up to this. "What's up with her?" As he said that, another question came out. "What happened?"

Carver looked at him, and for the first time, Jack saw someone who felt a hint of the nightmare he was living. Someone who was a part of the not-quite-rational world that he'd fallen into. Someone who understood, however slightly, WHY he had to know about Zimmy.

And all at once, the questions Jack had been burning to ask since that bizarre night came boiling out, without waiting for Carver's answers.

"That city she took us to..." He snapped, advancing on her again. "What was that place? How did she DO that?" Carver wasn't getting away from him, she was against the wall now, she HAD to answer him. "What's so important about that friend of hers?" The buzzing grew more demanding in his ears. _Zimmyzimmyzimmyzimmy_ "Where is she RIGHT NOW?"

Something FLARED through the buzzing, and Jack caught a sudden flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

Standing directly behind him was a very large, very angry, white wolf.

"Oh," Jack managed, diplomatically moving aside to let the wolf slide over to Carver's side. "You have a… large wolf with you."

Somehow this made sense. In the not-quite-rational world of Zimmy and Carver, you couldn't expect ordinary solutions. Of COURSE Carver had a maniacal canine bodyguard. Of course it wouldn't be so easy as simply ASKING her for the answers.

He'd asked his full, he could see, staring at the growling wolf. He'd get no more answers here. "Okay. Cool." He nodded, moving off. Fair enough. He'd play by their rules. It was the only way to play.

Oddly enough, Carver didn't look frightened, or even discomfited. If anything, she looked oddly… concerned. Her blue eyes studied him calmly, yet intently.

She had a flower in her hair, Jack noticed suddenly. So did the wolf.

"Nice flowers." Jack grinned, and strode off down the hall, past their sight. He made it all the way down the hall and arounda few more corners before he stopped and rested against the wall. What… what had just happened there?

_Zimmyzimmyzimmyzimmy…_

Again the tickle on his chin. Jack brushed it away irritably.

What had happened was he'd lost his only lead, he realized. Carver would never talk to him again, and even if she did… she might not be as lost as he, but clearly Zimmy was a mystery to her also. Some sort of new tack was needed.

_ Zimmyzimmyzimmyzimmy…_

Jack pressed his hands to his forehead. _Shut UP_, he thought, willing the buzz away. _Focus!_ There was no way he could get into Chester—they were kept separate from the rest of the court, and really Jack didn't know much more about them than the thousand weird rumors around the school. He couldn't even break into their dorms, he had no idea where the dorms were.

"Mr. Hyland?"

Jack glanced up, startled, at the smiling bald man before him. He was dressed in a Court Security uniform, he noticed.

"Mr. Hyland, Dr. Zeizenbergen noticed you were not in class," smiled the man.

"Yeah." Another guard, much taller and slimmer, came into view. "And they sent us to get you. What're you doing all the way back here, kid?"

Zimmyzimmyzimm…

Jack's mind seized on the inconsistency in the man's words. How had they managed to find him so quickly, when he was 'all the way back here?' Dr. Zeizenbergen couldn't have noticed his absence more than five minutes ago. Which meant that they had a way of spotting him quickly, which meant he…

"You should not be shirking your education in such a manner, Mr. Hyland." The short man admonished him. "Many of your other teachers have noticed that you are… distracted in class. Are you well?"

The question was kind and understanding, and the man had a look of beatific innocence spread across his features, but Jack felt or else imagined just a faint hungriness to his stance. How was he so familiar with Jack? How had he pulled all this information so quickly?

"C'mon, kid, let's get you back to class," ordered the other, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Shrugging, Jack went along with the guards. But inside, he couldn't help thinking: _They're watching me._


End file.
